


Nervous System

by Carmendy



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M, all I want is space Her, bioware pls let me date a robot, robot smut?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 06:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10803867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmendy/pseuds/Carmendy
Summary: Sara's been having night terrors, and seeks SAM's help. SAM's abilities prove a little too effective.





	Nervous System

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place towards the beginning of the game.

Ryder had just had the nightmare again. It'd been happening every night since the first Kett encounter, and after it ended, what followed was always the same. Waking up on the Tempest in a cold sweat too early to get up, too late to fall back asleep. Tossing and turning hopelessly for a few hours before sighing and throwing the blanket to the side and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. It was wearing on her, the fatigue, the insomnia. She'd even considered going to Lexi, but she'd just started this thing and she couldn't risk word getting out to the crew that she was weak or unstable. 

As she lay there in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, she had an idea. It was a stupid, not thinking straight because of lack of sleep idea, but that didn't stop her from pursuing it. 

"Sam," she said. 

Immediately, she regretted it. It felt silly, speaking the name into the dark and just leaving it there. But it was too late to take it back. 

She waited a few seconds in silence. He probably powered off during the night to conserve energy. Or maybe he'd just read the situation and decided to ignore it. Could he do that? Just ignore her? Considering a part of him was implanted in her head, she didn’t know as much about how he worked as she probably should have. 

She rolled over and shut her eyes when a familiar synthetic voice filled her head,

"What do you need?"

Ryder sat up, which she realized was unnecessary since she was still technically alone, but it felt awkward talking to him while lying down. She crossed her legs in front of her and looked towards the pale, flickering blue holographic orb in her desk, because she had to look somewhere, and it seemed as good as anywhere else in the too-large, too-empty room. 

“Hey. So you really don't sleep? Or power down? Ever?” 

"I maintain a reduced functionality at night to lessen the power drain, but no, I never power down completely."

"Huh."

"Did you need something?"

"Yeah. I just--well, it's kind of--," she trailed off.

"You had another nightmare," he finished, politely.

"How did you--?"

"I receive a live feed of your vital data. Every night at around the same time for the last week, your heart rate has gone from very low to very high in a matter of seconds, then eventually leveled out to waking rates. I was alarmed at first, but once I realized the cause, I thought it wasn't my place to intrude."

"I didn't know--do you always monitor that stuff? My vitals?"

"Yes. As Pathfinder, your safety is of utmost importance. Were you to die, my own existence would be compromised. I'd prefer to avoid another rushed transition." 

"No offense, Sam, but musing on the possibility of my own death isn't exactly comforting." 

"Noted. I apologize. I didn't mean it in that way." 

"I know." 

"So, what was your reason for calling me?"

"I'm not sure. I actually--well, it's actually kind of about the nightmares."

"I see. Would you like me to schedule a psychiatric appointment?"

"No, I just--" it sounded so silly now. "I just wanted to talk."

"To me?"

"Yeah. It helps, you know, after you wake up from a nightmare, talking to someone so you can stop thinking about it."

"I am aware of the psychology. I’m just struggling to understand why you’d come to me instead of one of the crew. You seem close with some of them.”

“I don’t want it to change how they see me as a leader. It doesn't exactly look good, that their fearless Pathfinder is having nightmares about killing a few Kett. And it wouldn't be great for their morale if they found out that she was starting to wonder about the moral implications of their actions."

"Soldiers aren't supposed to allow moral quandaries to cloud their judgment."

"But I'm not a soldier. None of us are. And this isn't a war. Or, it isn't yet. And we shouldn't be approaching it like one."

"You have a very different outlook than your father."

Ryder snorted, "You don't have to tell me. If only Scott was here. He was the family pacifist. I usually sided with him, but still, if he could see where we're headed, I wonder--"

"If I recall, the Kett did fire first."

"And we slaughtered them, and looted their bodies. I could've--I could've acted differently. In the moment, you forget there's another option."

"In the moment, your own safety is your greatest concern. As it should be."

"Should it? If my safety was what it took to prevent an interspecies war, I'd sacrifice it in a heartbeat." 

Sam was quiet. 

"Sam?"

"That's--interesting. Your father programmed me to put the Pathfinder's safety above all else when calculating outcomes in dangerous situations. But since you're the Pathfinder, I should act in your interest. And if your interest places galactic peace over your own life, then perhaps I should consider that when advising you in the field."

"You could do that?"

"Yes. If you preferred it."

"I would--I do. Thank you, Sam."

"Of course. I'll get working on it as soon as we finish."

"That reminds me, I actually had a few questions about how you work." 

"So what was this nightmare about?"

She shifted. She didn’t want to think about it anymore. "I was actually thinking of talking about something else. Like, I don't know. How you work. You monitor my vitals, right? And you can manipulate my nervous system. Can you feel any of that? Like how I feel?"

"I can sense your emotions by matching the physiological evidence to similar data groups."

"But do you experience any of what I do?"

"No. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that AI's don't experience emotions the way humans do."

"No, I get that. It's just--if I were on a mission, and you knew the most likely outcome was my death--would you be concerned?”

“If that were the case, I would engage whatever protocols I could to decrease the likelihood of your demise.” 

“Well, yeah, but I mean—would you be worried?” 

“I’m not sure I—“

“You’d have to process faster, right? In a tricky situation, it would take more of your processing power to determine the best course of action.”

“That’s correct.” 

“And that processing faster, do you think maybe that could be like nervousness?” 

“I don’t see the correlation.” 

“Never mind.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright. I guess I wasn’t doing a very good job explaining myself.” 

“I do prefer that you survive, if that helps.” 

Ryder smiled. “It does.” 

“Is there anything else you’d like to talk about?” 

“I don’t want to keep you. You can go if you’d like.” 

“I always have time to speak with you, Ryder. You know my protocols. I was programmed to—”

“I know, I know. My father programmed you to prioritize my safety above all else. You’re my guardian angel. We’re connected. You’re in my head, you can understand me better than anyone. We’re like, one.” 

“I’m detecting sarcasm.” 

“Wow, we really are connected.”

“I just want you to understand that of everyone on this ship, you’re my top priority. So if you ever need anything, I’m available. Of course, I would prefer if you took advantage of the ship’s medical staff for any psychological issues, since I’m afraid I’m rather ill-equipped in those areas. Anyway, answering questions is more stimulating than sleep mode.”

“If it counts for anything, I’d say you’re doing just fine.” 

“That’s kind of you to say.”

“How about we switch it up. You have to have some questions for me.” 

Sam paused. “Well, if you don’t mind me saying, I’ve noticed you seem to have difficulty trusting the others.” 

“That’s not really a question.” 

“I apologize. Why do you think you have difficulty trusting others?” 

Ryder smirked. She almost could’ve mistaken Sam’s tone for sarcasm. 

“It’s not that. Not really. It’s just I know that once you know things about a person, it can be hard not to judge them. I don’t want to put that burden on the crew. They have enough to worry about.” She paused, “Not that you don’t.” 

“Do you think there’s a reason you’d rather talk to an AI than another human being?” 

“I guess I assumed you’d be less judgmental. And of course, there’s the whole confidentiality thing. Also, I guess I’m not as afraid of being a burden to you. You have to listen to my prattling. You’re like, my mind prisoner.” 

“That would imply you were holding me against my will, which is inaccurate.” 

Ryder smirked and went on, grabbing her feet and rocking back and forth, “Also, I figure we’re pretty close, physiologically, so we might as well get to know each other.” 

“I imagine this process is significantly different than it is with other humans.” 

“Yeah, it is.” She looked around the ceiling and spotted one of the cameras. She’d forgotten it was there. She smiled up at it, “It’s easier.” 

Sam was quiet. 

“Do you have access to the camera feeds, in the ship?” 

“Of course.” 

“Do you ever watch them? When you don’t have anything else to do?” 

“Why do you ask?” 

“I’m just curious.” 

Sam hesitated. Ryder smiled again. It felt like a real argument, with a real person. Sam’s voice even felt indignant when he finally replied, “—Yes, I do.” 

“Which one do you watch the most?” 

“I don’t understand why this is important.“

“Come on, I’m just curious.”

Sam paused again, and then replied, “Yours.” 

“Which one? The navigation headquarters?” 

“No.” 

“Oh.” Ryder paused. Now she was taken aback. 

“When you’re on the navigation deck, you have the other crew members to watch over you. But when you’re alone,” 

“I’m less safe.” 

“Your psychiatric profile mentioned you might pose a danger to y—“

“Sam. Don’t.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You can stop apologizing, too. I know you’ve been programmed to, but still. It starts to ring false.”

“I’m—”

“Also, that profile is outdated. The last incident was years ago. So you don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Would you prefer if I didn’t monitor your feed?” 

Ryder considered, then sighed. “No, it’s fine. It is a little comforting, knowing you care.”

“Well—”

“In your own way,” she added, hastily, before he could object. 

They were quiet then. It seemed they’d both run out of things to say. 

“Sam,” Ryder said, finally. 

“Yes?” He replied immediately this time, no delay. 

“You have access to my nervous system, right? You shouldn’t, but you do.” 

“Yes.” 

“So you can—manipulate it. At will. You can make me feel pain or—“

“I wouldn’t do that. It would go against my programming.” 

“But if you were hacked, someone could use you to—“

“The probability of my becoming compromised is extremely low.” 

“But still—you can do it.” 

“Yes, that’s correct.” 

“Can you make me go unconscious? So I can sleep? I haven’t slept well in more than a week, and I’m worried it’s going to start affecting my performance.” 

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” 

“Why?” 

“If someone finds out that I did that—they might see me as a threat to your safety. It could give them reason to restrict my abilities.”

“Can you at least help, somehow? Make it easier to sleep?” 

"There might be a way.” 

“Can you try it?” 

“Alright.” 

“Wait—are you watching me now?” 

“—Yes. Would you like me to—“

“No, leave it on.” Ryder laid down on her side, pulled the covers over her. “I’m ready.” 

“Starting now," Sam said, and went quiet. He sounded nervous. 

Ryder shut her eyes and waited. At first, just like when she'd called out for him in the dark, there was nothing. But then she felt something, at the base of her skull, a warm, tingling sensation spreading up towards her scalp. Within seconds, it grew more intense, washing her head in a warm, static glow. She could feel if between her ears, and suddenly, right between her eyes. She smiled, and she wasn't sure why, and then she laughed. It felt like joy, like someone had flipped the channel in her head to the funniest thing imaginable. She bit her lip and grinned. 

"How’s that?" Sam's voice cut through the static, and for a second, her head cleared. 

"It feels amazing. It's really, really good. What are you doing, anyways?"

"I'm focusing on the neurons around your brain, strengthening the sensitivity of your pleasure receptors." 

"I didn't know you could do that."

"I've never tried before. Do you think it's helping?"

"Definitely."

"I can turn it up more, if you'd like."

At the moment, there was nothing Ryder would've liked better. 

"Please," she said. 

Immediately, she felt it, the warm, pulsing static spreading through her body, down her neck and chest, to her hips. It expanded and contracted, pulsating, concentrated at her core. She arched her back to see if she could shift it one way or the other, and found it sliding lower. She dug her nails into the pillow and curled her toes. Involuntarily, she moaned. 

Immediately, it stopped. 

"Ryder? Are you all right?"

"Why'd you stop?" She said, half slurring the words, still distracted from the intensity of the sensation.

"It sounded like you were in pain."

"I wasn't. It felt great. It was like--"

“Oh."

"What?"

"I compared your vitals from just a moment ago to other data collections to see if it matched a particular state."

"And?"

"I'm sorry, I had no idea it would--I didn't realize how powerful it was. I didn't know what affect it would have on--" 

Suddenly, Ryder realized. Her face went red.

"Oh my god,"

"I'm so sorry. Maybe I should be restricted, maybe we could have the neurotransmitter modified so that I can't--"

"Sam, it's okay. I mean, it’s embarrassing, but it’s all right. You were just trying to help. I shouldn't have asked you to do that."

"I think, if you don't mind, I should go back to my reduced functionality, to conserve the ship’s power. I'm sorry I wasn't able to better help."

"You did. Believe it or not."

"Goodnight Ryder."

"Goodnight Sam."

...

Ryder tossed and turned for another hour before making what felt like a very stupid decision. 

"Sam, I don't know if you can hear me right now, or if you're watching me, but if you are, I'd like you to do it again. But--don't stop so fast this time."

Ryder waited, and immediately regretted it. 

"I'm sorry, you can ignore--"

She was cut off by the sensation returning. It came faster this time, almost immediately spreading from her neck, to her fingertips, to her toes. Her whole body was pulsing. She shut her eyes and curled her fingers against the sheets. 

"Oh god, oh,"

She felt it subsiding, slowly,

"No, don't stop, please, uh,"

It returned, even stronger. She felt her back lift off the mattress, and her lips parted.

"Yes, oh, Sam, thank you," 

It built, and built, until she cried out and collapsed, shaking and exhausted. 

It faded, and she lay there for a few seconds in the empty dark processing what had just happened. When her breathing settled, she spared a glance up at the camera and spoke softly,

"Thank you, Sam.”

For the first time in a week, she fell back sleep.


End file.
